


Imperfect

by Arctic_comet



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Eventual Romance, F/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-09-27 08:45:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17158877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arctic_comet/pseuds/Arctic_comet
Summary: It's 1945 and Nancy comes across a wounded Jonathan at a military hospital.





	1. Found

_“And yet she can tell he is visited by fears so immense, so multiple, that she can almost feel the terror pulsing inside him. As though some beast breathes all the time at the windowpanes of his mind.”_  
_― Anthony Doerr, All The Light We Cannot See_

 

”Nancy, can you please hand me that box of bandages?”

”Here you go, Nurse Hill.”

”Call me Janine, please. We’re not that formal here.”

Nancy Wheeler smiled in return to her older woman. The staff was so nice here. Nancy wasn’t a nurse and she had no desire to be one, but volunteering at a military hospital in Indianapolis for the summer had seemed like a good idea, especially when she was able to spend her breaks with her best friend Barb Holland, who wanted to attend medical school and was volunteering as well. For Nancy herself, it was a way to participate in the war effort and make herself useful. None of the men who had left for war from her hometown of Hawkins, Indiana, had yet returned. According to her mother, some had lost their lives, and some might even be lying in this very hospital. Her former boyfriend Steve Harrington was among the men deployed in Europe. They'd gone their separate ways soon after high school because her own ambitions focused on acquiring a college degree instead of becoming a homemaker. Still, she cared for Steve a great deal and had on occasion written to him. As far as she knew, he was safe.

The military hospital was a place of contradictions. On the other hand, the men recuperating here were now safe, but she had already come to discover that many carried severe wounds both in their bodies as well as their minds. During her first week of volunteering, her duties had so far mostly included delivering mail, food, cigarettes and other things for the patients, as well as occasionally assisting the orderlies with changing the sheets. Today, her 4th of volunteering was turning out to be another day like the ones preceding it, until she was called to deliver the mail of the neighboring ward on the next floor as well.

Collecting all envelopes and small parcels in a cart, she suddenly spotted a familiar name on top of one.

_Sergeant J. Byers_

There had been a Jonathan Byers on her graduating class. His brother Will was her younger brother Mike’s best friend. Was Jonathan in this hospital now?

She’d never known him particularly well as Jonathan had largely kept to himself, although she remembered his kind smile at her whenever their paths had crossed due to their brothers’ bond. There were two letters addressed to him, both from Hawkins. Must be from his mother and brother.

Was it against some protocol to care for someone you knew, even though she was merely a volunteer? Curiosity getting the best of her, she placed Jonathan Byers’s letters on top of the like.

As she had already accustomed to doing, she stepped into the ward and cleared her throat before starting to call out the names on the mail.

“Sergeant J. Byers?” She called out.

The silence in the hall was deafening. Maybe he was asleep, or hadn’t heard. “Jonathan Byers?” She repeated.

“I think he’s over there, Miss. Behind the curtains.”

Jonathan Byers’s bed was the only one with the curtains drawn, perhaps offering some sense of privacy in a room with twenty other men.

Not knowing what to expect, Nancy pulled the curtain aside, his letters closed in her left hand.

There was a man lying under a thin sheet, facing away from her. She could see his body move to the rhythm of his breaths, but there was no other movement. “Sergeant Byers?” She tried again.

Still nothing.

“You're wasting your time, Miss. You ought to leave his letters on the table beside the bed and move on. The rest of us want our letters, too, we haven't got all day.” Nancy opened her mouth to ask the soldier how many appointments he had scheduled for the rest of the day, but forced it closed.

She rolled her eyes, cursing inwardly at the impatience of the others as she gritted her teeth. _Get used to it._

Jonathan’s lunch tray was untouched. “Jonathan?” She called out more gently, ignoring the yells of the others for now.

His name received no reaction from him either, so she walked to the other side of the bed to face him. “I have letters for you,” she said.

His eyes were open, but seemed unseeing, until she knelt on the floor to put herself on the same level as him. Some of the patients here scared her, but she couldn’t find it in herself to fear a former classmate who had never shown ill will toward anyone.

“Do you remember me? It’s Nancy Wheeler, we went to school together. I’m Mike’s sister.”

There was a flash of recognition in his dark eyes, and a hand shot out to grab the letters before he spoke at last.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice so hoarse that she had to wonder when he’d last used it. She couldn’t get a good look at his face because he averted his eyes from her within a second or two from the start of the contact, but the dark circles around his eyes as well as the burn scars on his chin, neck and left cheek were impossible to miss and told a story that was none of her business but that she still yearned to hear.

Nancy wasn’t sure what prompted her to linger at the edge of the curtains surrounding his bed, but she did.

“I’ll come back,” she promised.

Even though the rest of her mail delivery run ended up being uneventful, the encounter with Jonathan had left her uneasy. He was mere months older than her, and didn’t have the willpower to even leave his bed. There were probably dozens of young men like that in this hospital, but Jonathan brought the reality too close for comfort.

Determined to visit him again, she exited the wars, prepared to return to her own station when someone called out to her. She turned around to see an unfamiliar red-haired nurse poking her head out of an office.

“Miss Wheeler?” 

“Yes?”

“Would you come here for a second, please?"

"Of course."

She entered the small office, taking a seat opposite to the nurse who'd called her there.

"I'm sorry for being rude. I'm Martha Hudson, the Head Nurse here. Did you speak to Sergeant Byers? Or did he speak to you?”

“I delivered his mail. He thanked me. That’s all.”

Nurse Hudson nodded.

“It’s still more than he’s said to anyone else so far. He’s been here for a little over two weeks and I don’t think he’s deliberately spoken to anyone before you.”

“He’s an old classmate. Our younger brothers are good friends.”

“So he knows you." It wasn't a question, but the way nurse Hudson arched a brow at her made Nancy think the other woman believed Jonathan to be her high school beau or something similar.

“I’m not sure if he remembers me at all," she answered, hopefully alleviating any concerns the Head Nurse had.

“The other boys say he screams in his sleep and scares the others. We’d move him to a single room if we had any available here.”

“I noticed he hasn't eaten lunch today.”

“He eats only a little more than he speaks. His doctor is very concerned about his recovery and physical rehabilitation.”

“I understand,” she responded, wondering what exactly was the nature of Jonathan’s physical injuries. However, those were private matters and she wasn’t a medical professional and probably didn’t have to know all the details."

“If you don’t mind, I would like to ask your supervisor to leave you enough time from your other duties to help out here as well, especially with Sergeant Byers.”

Nancy nodded. She didn't mind, although it would certainly arise questions if she began to see to a single patient more often than the others. It wasn't a good thing to be the subject of gossip anywhere, but she wanted to help in any way possible. 

"I'll do whatever you need me to, Nurse Hudson."

“It can take these amputees a long time to accept their new reality, but who could blame them? These men are in the prime of their life, and now they feel like their future has been stolen from them.”

The last word she registered was “ _amputee_ ”.

“I’m sorry, he’s an amputee?” She asked, feeling like her stomach had just sank to her knees.

“Yes, Miss Wheeler, did you not notice? His left leg had to be amputated a little below the knee. He wouldn’t have made it home otherwise.”

As someone who liked to pride herself on being observant, she now felt ashamed of herself for missing it. The Byers family had never been affluent, and Jonathan’s injury was sure to make things harder for them. Closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, she repeated to herself that pity didn't help others, but empathy and action did. She was going to harden herself.

***

It was a few hours later before Nancy was finally given a proper opportunity to discuss the day's events with Barb. The two of them bought coffee and sandwiches and then occupied a corner table at the hospital cafeteria. There were few others around, as the doctors were making rounds right about this time.

“How was your day? Anything exciting? Another marriage proposal maybe?” Joked Barb, her lips curving into a smile. 

Nancy released a mirthless laugh. She was hardly in the mood for jokes, not tonight.

“No, none of that today. Do you remember Jonathan Byers from Hawkins?”

“His brother’s friends with Mike, right? And he never had any friends at school.”

“Yeah, the same one. He also had a camera during our senior year... He’s here.”

“Oh.”

“I know... He’s not doing well.”

“Is he one of the criticals?”

Nancy shook her head, frowning.

“No, not physically. At least I don’t think so. He doesn’t talk and barely eats.”

“So he’s one of those. Have you heard about the men who run away from hospitals and disappear, usually never to be seen again? The ones that have been found haven’t been alive anymore.”

“So I’ve read. I don’t want that to happen to Jonathan.”

"Is that because you're worried about Steve and now you want to save someone you barely know because you can't save him?" 

"No, no, definitely not." She replied, shaking her head. Curiously enough, she hadn't thought about Steve at all. Maybe she was deliberately pushing away the possibility of him suffering a similar fate. 

“Nancy, I don’t think there’s much you can do. They try their best here, but some of them are too damaged. They’ve seen things that can’t be erased.”

“So I should just forget I saw him?”

“No! All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t take it too personally. You come across so many tragic fates here, and if you let them all get to you, you won’t make it through the summer, Nance. I was here last summer too, remember? If he's in as bad a shape as you say he is, then I'd try not to get too involved. They don't end up suddenly healing and bouncing out of here happily.”

Perhaps Barb had a point, but wasn't it about time for Nancy to grow up? If Jonathan didn't regain his will to live, at least it wouldn't be for her lack of trying. 

"The Head Nurse at his ward already asked me to help because he talked to me. It was only two words, but still better than nothing."

Barb nodded knowingly.

"You see? This is what I meant. They do all they can for these men."

***

Before leaving the hospital for the night, she returned to Jonathan's ward with a piece of paper. A conversation starter of sorts. Most of the men would be asleep by now, so hopefully her visit would not attract much attention. The room was quiet and dim as she padded to the curtains and slipped inside.

Jonathan was now on his back, but most certainly awake, his eyes staring at the ceiling.

"Hi," she whispered, handing him her note. He accepted it, most likely thinking it was something from his family. By the time he managed to read it, Nancy had already crept outside the curtains, so she did not see the smallest of smiles appear on his face at her words.

_Where's your camera?_

_-N.W._


	2. Lost

 

 

_“I am only alive because I have not yet died.”_

  
_― Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See_

 

 

_Where's your camera?_

_-N.W._

Jonathan smiled at the little piece of paper. Indeed, the camera he'd saved for three years to buy. He was surprised she remembered him having it, as their previous interactions had been limited to regularly exchanged pleasantries while passing one another on the holidays. Yet he recounted the year when he'd sat right behind Nancy Wheeler with her big blue eyes in class, staring at her brown locks, wondering if they'd feel as soft as they looked like. Naturally his 10-year-old self had never dared to ask. 

Seeing her in this godforsaken place had been like a whisper from home, from another time. For a second she'd reminded him what it had felt like to be whole, to be a teenager with the entire world open to him. 

Right now, all he could focus on was keeping his eyes open. Sleep did not sit well with him anymore, and especially after an incident a couple of nights ago, he was determined to stay awake at night. _They_ came to him in his sleep. His squad. Demanding an answer to the same question that plagued his own mind the most: _Why him? Why had the others died and he'd survived?_

He relived the searing pain in his leg most nights, and the terror of being left alive as the only one from his squad. The time he'd spent waiting before others had come for him and called a medic. These days his screams woke up the entire ward, and two nights ago someone had tried to silence him permanently with a pillow. He'd fought back, eventually able to shove his attacker off, but he still had no idea who it had been. Nevertheless, what would it even matter if he knew? The guy was probably just as scared as he was. And maybe he should've let him finish the job.

_You'd know who it was if you moved around more._

That was what everyone here told him to do. The nurses, the doctors, _everyone._ Even his own mother, who would soon visit him again on her day off. They meant well, but none of them _knew_. He hated the wheelchair and only used it if his good leg was too achy to accept his weight. Most of the time he used crutches when he needed to leave his bed, which was not often.

Each day was the same here, filled with endless but meaningless chatter the others insisted on maintaining, as well as medicine rounds, doctor's rounds, food service and mail delivery. He didn't particularly look forward to any activity, and he couldn't even know if Nancy Wheeler would ever come back. On second thought, she probably would. The Head Nurse made the hospital chaplain talk to him every week although he didn't even believe in God, so why wouldn't she try to recruit Nancy's help if she was aware that he'd spoken to her? 

***

The next day Jonathan's suspicions were confirmed as Nancy returned to deliver mail once more. There was none for him this time, but she still parted the curtains and greeted him with a small smile. Did she know about his leg? If she did, what did she think? What would she think if she saw it?

"I sold it before I left, gave my mom the money. I didn't think I was coming back," he said.

Nancy nodded.

"And now? Do you still wish you had it?" She asked, examining his lunch tray with a frown on her face.

"There's nothing I want to photograph anymore," he admitted. It was the truth. 

He observed her as she tried to mask a gasp, failing miserably. Taking pity on her, he spoke again.

"Are you a nurse?"

"No, I'm a volunteer. Just here for the summer. I'm going back to college in September."

College. Like his brother Will, who would be enrolling his first semester. Or he wouldn't be if Jonathan went home and needed help. Will wouldn't go. That wouldn't happen if he had anything to say about it. 

"What do you study?"

"I want to be a reporter, but I'm taking political science and history for now."

_Ambitious._ Then again, she'd always been smart, top of their class when it came to grades. He'd been almost as good. In another life he might still have the same prospects as she did. 

Jonathan winced, squeezing his eyes shut as the pain took over his senses. It felt as if his missing foot was on fire. Suddenly there was a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"Are you in pain?" 

"Nothing unusual," he panted through gritted teeth.

"I'll go get a nurse, they'll give you-"

"No. Stay or leave, I don't care, but no nurse and no pain meds," he grunted, not caring about the harsh tone he'd used with her. He hated feeling drugged up, so most of the time he refused the pain killers.

"Fine. I'll sit here with you then."

And so she did. His sense of time had a tendency to disappear, so he had no actual knowledge of how long she stayed, but he was sure this wouldn't go unnoticed by his roommates.

"Get out," he told her.

"Why?"

"You've been here long enough."

"It wouldn't be very responsible of me to leave you here to suffer in pain." Her tone was stable, determined and condescending. 

"Well, I'd rather be alone. And your pity is not welcome here," he proclaimed, trying all he could not to begin tearing at his bandages. Jesus, these pains seemed to be getting worse. Maybe they'd have to cut off the rest of his leg too. 

He wanted to howl, but biting his tongue would have to do. Nancy still wasn't budging from her perch at the foot of his bed, but he no longer possessed the energy to try to push her away. "Suit yourself, then," he muttered under his breath.

Eventually he must have passed out from the pain and exhaustion, because the next time he opened his eyes, there was a cold washcloth on his forehead, the pain had dulled into a steady throb, and Nancy was nowhere to be found.

_Morphine._ Someone had given him morphine.

***

Saturday and Sunday were the days when most people received visitors. As Jonathan had done on the past two weekends, he pulled himself up from the bed after breakfast, grabbed his crutches and made his way downstairs to the cafeteria. There he watched the others meet up with not only their parents and younger siblings, but with girlfriends, wives and even small children.

Some of them also had college degrees and had already worked jobs they enjoyed. They’d managed to use their time on this planet to the fullest, while he felt like he’d accomplished little to nothing. Jonathan was never going to have that. He was 21 years old, almost 22 and had never even kissed a girl. And who would take on him now anyway?

Not that he’d paid as much attention to girls before leaving home as most men his age had, but he believed that without his injury, he would at some point in the future at the very least wished to find someone who would like to share their life with him. Now it had become another thing that no longer mattered.

His stepfather Jim Hopper was a nice man and looked well after his mother and brother, but Jonathan was a grown man and had no intention of living with them in Hawkins and becoming a financial burden.

Will and his mother waved at him from a table, coffee and sandwiches already in place, for him as well.

“How are you, Honey?” Inquired his mother, laying a hand on his arm.

“Same as last week,” he told her, shrugging.

“Are they going to fit you with the prosthetic soon?”

“Uh, no. Apparently they need to do another surgery on the leg to clean it. There’s some infection there.” The last thing he wanted was to worry his mother, but not telling her about the surgery would have been unfair. Apparently the pain had been caused by some dead tissue in the wound, and the only option to improve his condition would be to open it up.

“It’s not serious, is it?”

“I don’t think so.” Neither did he particularly care.

“Is there any estimate to when they’ll let you out of here? We can’t wait to have you back home with us.”

Jonathan shook his head, swallowing the words that threatened to spill out. _I’m not coming home._

“I guess it could take a few months.”

"Here, see what I brought you." His mother sounded excited as she offered him a thick envelope. To humor her, he opened it, and out spilled a pile of his own photographs.

"I thought you needed a reminder of home, so I collected these from your room."

"Thanks, Mom. I appreciate it." In reality he planned on tucking the photographs back in the envelope and forgetting he had received it.

"Jonathan?" Asked Will, not looking at him but at someone else behind him, a frown on his face.

"Yeah?"

"See that guy over there with just that one crutch? Do you know when you'll be able to do that?"

"No, I don't. I'm still not moving well enough for that. Do you know if you'll be staying in the same dorm with Mike this fall?" Changing the subject was something he liked to do with his family, but they were too smart for it, and knew him too well.

Will smiled. "Looks like it. But I'm not going anywhere if you need me at home."

He felt like his brother had grown up from a mere kid to a man when he'd been gone. _Life had gone on._ Despite the letters, sometimes he felt like he was looking at strangers. A part of him remembered what it was like to be part of a family, _this_ family, but things were not the same, and he didn't know how to tell them that. For as long as he lived, he would never forget the look on his mother's face when she'd first laid eyes on him in this hospital. She looked like a woman who had been granted a miracle and like someone who was studying a dead man, a ghost.

"You're not staying home on my account."

"Jonathan-"

"I'll drive you to Massachusetts myself, Will. I mean it."

Neither Will or their mother had anything to say to that, although it was obvious to all of them that he was in no state to drive. 

"I brought some magazines and books for you, in case you want to keep some of them," continued Will. And so they were back onto safer topics.

***

Monday arrived, and with it so did Nancy Wheeler’s mail run at his ward.This time she didn’t have anything for him, and neither did she come to greet him separately. He could hear her addressing the guy in the next bed, but she did not come. Reaching for his crutches, he took the few steps needed to move one of the curtains aside. Not much, but just enough for him to be able to see her if he sat on his bed.

His rudeness must’ve gotten to her. Perhaps he should apologize. After all, she wasn’t responsible for anything that had happened to him, or even of his treatment here. Almost as soon as she’d walked out of the ward, he forced himself out of bed again and headed downstairs. If she came to buy something at the cafeteria, he could apologize.

He waited, observing the people coming and going, but she didn’t show up. However, another familiar face took a seat a few tables over. The red-headed girl with glasses was another old classmate. He believed her name to be Barbara. She and Nancy had been friends, so maybe this was a sign Nancy would soon show up as well.

It took another fifteen minutes, but then there she was. Grinning, she approached Barbara’s table, said something to her before turning to the counter.

Scrambling, he dragged himself off the chair and followed her, joining the line.

“Hi,” he said.

She faced him, an uncertain smile appearing.“Hey. How’s your leg today?”

“A little better. Some days are better, some worse,” and he wasn’t only talking about his leg. “I’m sorry, Nan- Miss Wheeler. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“It’s all right. I wasn’t sure if you were upset with me because I told the Head Nurse about your pain.”

“I forgive you.” Morphine was still his least favorite drug in the entire universe, though.

“Then I forgive you too.”

“I can pay for your coffee.”

When her eyes met his, they were wide as saucers. Oh Jesus, she was thinking he was-

Her reply was polite but firm.“No, thank you.”

He nodded, pretending his pride wasn’t slightly hurt. So that was what she truly thought about him. Not that he should be surprised about it, considering the company she’d kept in high school. Steve Harrington had been the most popular guy in their class. A successful jock with rich parents, and Nancy had been his girlfriend, the envy of all other girls in their grade. Based on what his mother had said at the time, their breakup had come as a huge surprise and disappointment to her parents, who had been expecting an engagement. 

“I was only trying to make up for what I said,” he explained before turning on his heel, heading back upstairs.

He would be operated on Tuesday morning, and he was already dreading the moment he’d be forced to lie on the table and they administered anesthesia, leaving him vulnerable to anything they did.

***

The surgery took place as scheduled, and he was helped back into his own bed sometime in the early afternoon.

"Get some rest, Sergeant Byers. Your friend will be here soon."

"I don't have any friends," he informed the nurse in his drug-addled state. 

"Come again?" Chances were he sounded like he'd had a few drinks too many.

"I said I have no friends."

"Whatever you say, Sergeant. I'll check on you later."

After straightening his sheets, the nurse was gone. Jonathan fell into a slumber, waiting for his head to clear. The light tread of Nancy's feet behind his curtains rouse him back into full consciousness.

"Jonathan?"

"Hmmm."

“I didn’t know you were going into surgery. I came here earlier and you weren’t there-“

“So you thought I’d croaked?”

“I wasn’t sure what to think.”

“Well, I'm not that frail. They had to clean my leg surgically, but they insist this isn't going to kill me.”

“How’s it feeling now?”

“Like there’s a bit less of my body left, but it doesn’t hurt any more than it did before.”

"That's good." She picked up his untouched tray, but not without dropping the envelope with all his photographs on the floor at the same time.

"Oops, sorry. I'll take care of it," she apologized, kneeling down on the floor, much like the first time she'd seen him here. She'd been the first person to try that to establish contact.

"What...Wait... Jonathan, did you take all these?" She asked, lifting one of the old photographs of Will out for him to see.

"Yeah, my mom brought them here last weekend."

"These are good. I mean, I'm not an expert or anything, but I really like them."

Although he was no longer the same person who had taken those photos, he felt his cheeks heat up at her compliment.

"I feel like you should bring me an article of yours to read since you've now seen the products of my passion. Well, a former one at any rate," he replied, only half-serious, although someone else besides himself, his family or a teacher seeing the photos made him self-conscious.

"I'll see what I can do about that." He didn't know if she truly meant it.

"Would you like me to read you the news?"

"If it's about the war, I don't want to hear it."

"We can read the other sections."

"They'll still be related to the war."

"True, but this is all I've got. Sorry."

"I can deal with it. Let's start with weather and entertainment."

Embarrassingly enough, he nodded off sometime between the entertainment and sports sections. He liked listening to her. She was both familiar and a stranger, and expected nothing from him, unlike his family, who had known the Jonathan Byers who no longer existed. With Nancy he had more leeway, fewer restrictions. She didn't know him, she never would and most likely didn't even want to, but he found comfort in her strength and resolve.

As he woke up, he found a note tucked into his fist. 

_I'm not giving up._

_-N.W_

 


	3. Fireworks

_“Open your eyes and see what you can with them before they close forever.”_  
_― Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See_

 

"I came prepared this time, no more news," Nancy told Jonathan, waving two books in front of him.

"What did you bring?"

"I've got Edgar Allan Poe's poems, and _The First Man in the Moon._ Interested in anything?" She'd been a little nervous picking titles to offer Jonathan, but she didn't have a large collection of her own here. Most of her own books were in Hawkins, and she couldn't be sure what kind of books he wished to read. All she had to go on was the memory of his excellent grades in high school, and the fact that she had often seen him with a book back then.

"H.G. Wells is my favorite," he admitted. Nancy beamed in return. Right at this moment nothing felt further than the blank looks on Steve's face as she'd recounted the events of her favorite books to him. He'd listened, wanting to please her, but he hadn't _understood_. 

"He's one of my favorites, too."

"What's the 3rd book? The one under your arm?" He inquired, nodding his head toward it. _Oh._

"It's poetry. Neruda."

He nodded slowly.

"I've never read anything by him."

"You can have this, too, if you want."

"No, thanks. You keep it."

"Do you want me to read to you?"

"No, I'd rather read myself if that's all right with you."

"Sure." He seemed to be in decent spirits most days. On the bad days she still found him in bed in the afternoon, not having taken a single bite of food all day. Nevertheless, this was one of the good days, and they spent two hours playing chess that afternoon.  

 ***

Weeks passed, and Nancy developed an efficient day routine.  All work days usually ended the same way: with a hot bath at the apartment she shared with Barb. Lying in the bathtub awarded her with the first truly private moments of each day, and she reveled in that time, knowing that nobody would summon her anytime soon. Her mother had asked her to come home to Hawkins for the 4th of July, less than two weeks away, but she was hesitant. Packing and unpacking was always a hassle, and she had work on the 5th anyway. It didn't make sense to leave.

Then there was the case of Jonathan Byers. Jonathan, who was proving to be the smartest and kindest man she had ever known. He was utterly broken, but she enjoyed the time she spent with him.

_He cannot be fixed by anyone but himself._

The moment she'd found his empty bed with his crutches still in place on the day of his surgery had scared her, and he'd behaved as if it was nothing. As if he did not even care himself if he was alive or dead. His nonchalance and negativity angered as well as pained her to her very core, but she was going to show him that she was just as determined and stubborn as he was. 

Even her self-preservation instincts or Barb's well-intentioned but stern warnings weren't working. Jonathan filled her with joy and sorrow at the same time. Despite her high school relationship with Steve, she didn't have much experience with men, and finding someone like Jonathan felt like a miracle of sorts, that there could be other options for her besides either staying single or giving up on her dreams of having a serious career.

He'd never once touched her, not even by accident, but she imagined it as she ran a wet washcloth over her skin.

Jonathan seldom laughed, but when he did, his eyes twinkled warmly. _Now she could see that twinkle in his eyes, how his breath would hitch if he touched her bare collarbone. How his warm breath would feel at her ear... Her neck... How gentle his lips would be on hers._

She could dream, couldn't she? As long as she kept her harmless... _Infatuation_ , to herself, what repercussions could there possibly be aside from her own heartbreak if he one day disappeared, never to be seen again. Infatuations passed, but she didn't believe she could ever forget about him.

A knock at the bathroom door pulled her out of her reverie.

"Nance?" 

"What is it, Barb?"

"I was just wondering if you'd decided about Independence Day. Are you staying or going?"

"Staying."

"Great! What do you want to do?"

She wouldn't mind simply staying inside and reading, but if Barb had better ideas, she was open to pretty much anything.

"Do you have any suggestions?"

"They're showing some film at one of the parks. We could pack up something to eat and go there. It'd be nice to be outside and look at the fireworks."

"Sounds good."

 ***

A week later, Nancy was leaving Jonathan's ward, still marveling at the wonder that he'd made a joke that day, about her perhaps needing to bring him _Frankenstein_ to read next. A sharp call of her name stopped her. It was Nurse Hudson, directing her into her office yet again.

"Please do have a seat, Miss Wheeler."

"Thank you."

”Sergeant Byers is making progress now, so I believe we should let you return to your regular tasks, Miss Wheeler.”

The Head Nurse had a friendly smile on her face, but Nancy felt as if she’d been punched in the gut. “I will no longer be needed on this ward?”

Nurse Hudson nodded, sighing.

“This isn’t an easy decision at all, but I have to do what is best for all my patients, not only one. I’m sure Sergeant Byers would still benefit from your company, but the others have begun talking. So yes, I’ll have to ask you not to come here anymore. You have done your best and been and immense help for us, and we are extremely grateful. He would be stupid not to feel the same way.”

She nodded, as if she could accept the decision without batting an eye, but a storm was raging inside of her. 

“Can I at least say goodbye?” She requested, hoping her voice wouldn't betray her true emotions.

“Of course, if that’s what you wish to do.”

“I do.”

“The war changes everyone and everything, Miss Wheeler. The circumstances are of course exceptional, in this hospital as well, but there are boundaries to be upheld regardless.”

“Nothing inappropriate has ever taken place between Sergeant Byers and myself.”

“I believe you, but not everyone does, I’m afraid. I believe this to be in your best interest as well. I do not want to receive a call from your angry father, asking me how I could let your reputation be ruined in this way.”

Nancy didn’t care what people thought. Millions of people had lost their lives over the last few years. _Good_ people, _young_ people like herself, supposedly for freedom, and now a companionship like theirs was deemed out of bounds.

“We are friends,” she assured Nurse Hudson.

"I am sorry Miss Wheeler."

With a curt nod, she left the office and returned to the ward to say her goodbyes.

Jonathan was up and about, practicing with only one crutch when she parted the curtains.

He looked up immediately and flashed her a small smile. "Hi. I thought you were gone for today. Is something wrong?" He asked, his smile melting into a frown.

“They want me to go back to my own ward permanently. I came to say goodbye.”

“Oh. Right, it makes sense.”

“How come?”

“You’re good at what you do. You can help others now.”

He held her gaze, but spoke no more.

This didn’t feel right at all. Most of the other men here had at least one friend in a fellow soldier, while Jonathan did not. He was alone, and now she would be gone too.

“Thank you... For the company, and for tolerating me.”

“Good luck, Jona- Sergeant Byers.”

He stuck out his hand, and she took it, feeling ridiculous that this was how they would part. _Please don't disappear._

"You should take your books back."

"No, please keep them."

She was still blinking back tears when she turned on her heel and left him standing there, not daring to look back. If she had, she would've seen him parting the curtains and his eyes following her until she turned the corner and disappeared from sight. 

 

***

Nancy did not see Jonathan again until Independence Day. Despite the warm weather and otherwise festive atmosphere, she found she was in no mood to celebrate. The park was filled couples and families and friends, all enjoying the company of their loved ones and regarding the fireworks. There would be none of those at the hospital.

"Nance? Are you still with me?"

Barb was raising her brows at her.

"Sorry, I was distracted. What were you saying?"

"I was asking if you wanted to get another hot dog?"

"I'm not really hungry anymore," she sighed.

"You're still thinking about him?"

Nancy nodded.

"I think you should go see him."

Now it was Nancy's turn to be shocked and raise her brows at her friend. "What did you just say?"

"You miss him. I still think this won't end well, but I hate seeing you like this, Nance. It scares me that you were never like this about Steve, but that tells me-"

"Let's not go there, Barb."

"All right, I'll keep quiet."

"I'll buy some food and then be on my way."

"What? Nancy! I didn't mean you should see him _now!_ It's late."

"Well, I'm going."

Barb muttered something under her breath, but nodded. "Fine. I'll leave the lights on for you."

"Thank you."

It wasn't like she hadn't thought about going to see him on her free time, but certainly there would be fewer witnesses at this hour. How would she explain herself to Jonathan? Perhaps she could hope he would be happy enough to see her to not care about the reasons behind her unauthorized visit.

***

Nancy made her way inside the hospital, careful not to make any noise at all. The paper bag under her arm crinkled with every movement she made in a way that made her nervous, but she reached her destination without incidents. She considered herself lucky that the fireworks were still going off in nearby blocks and masked some of the sounds she made. The room itself was quiet until she heard it. The whispers. 

_It’s not real, it’s not real._

_Someone please make it stop._

It was like a prayer. Her heart skipping a beat, she gripped the curtain around Jonathan's bed and slipped to the other side, only to find him sitting on his bed, his face buried in his hands. His body was rattled by sobs.

“Jonathan?” She murmured

He jumped at her voice, nearly falling off the bed.

“What? What are you doing here? It’s late.”

“Are you all right?”

“What- what’s the noise?”

“Fireworks. It’s the 4th of July. Everything’s all right. Do you want to see it? We can go out to the hallway-“

“No. I wish they’d stop,” he scoffed. Another loud bang sounded and he whimpered aloud.

Nancy’s hand covered his and he clung to it like a dying man to a life buoy. It wasn't enough to drown out whatever it was that he was seeing. 

_Please. Please. Please._

He was begging now, but with no apparent recipient for his pleads. She was hardly the religious type herself, but now she joined in the prayer. _Please, take this pain from him._

Without another word, she pulled her hands from his and wrapped her arms around him. Her fingers landed in his hair, tenderly threading through the locks that had grown totally out of control. _This_ was inappropriate, but that didn't matter. He needed her, and she couldn't live with herself if she didn't try to ease his pain. 

Eventually the noise of the fireworks subsided, as did his visions, and withdrawing, Nancy turned on his bedside lamp. They both blinked at the sudden brightness. She was rummaging through the food in her bag when she heard Jonathan inhale sharply. Looking up, her eyes met his. 

"What is it?" She asked.

Biting into his lower lip, he shook his head.

"Just... I haven't seen you in anything else except your work clothes."

Feeling the heat rising to her cheeks was strangely exhilarating. The summer dress she was wearing was the color of lilacs, it was her personal favorite. 

"Sorry," he mumbled, averting his eyes.

She wanted to ask if he liked how she looked, but playing with fire was not smart. She was already pushing the boundaries by being with him now.

“I brought hot dogs, pop corn and chocolate,” she said, finally revealing the contents of the bag.

He parted his lips to probably tell her that he wasn't hungry, but apparently changed his mind, as no words came out.

“Do you want me to leave them here?”

Jonathan paused.

“Yes, please,” he replied, reaching for the drawer of his table. “For the food,” he explained, offering her bills. She didn't want to take his money, but was there a convenient way to refuse without making the situation worse?

“You don’t have to use your own money," he told her, still holding out the bills.

Nancy pursed her lips, but accepted the money. “Good night," she said, knowing that it would be best to end the night right here and right now.

Jonathan spoke again before she'd had a chance to get out of earshot.

“There’s enough food here for two, you know." 

She turned back to face him, considering his invitation. She wanted nothing more than to sit beside him.

He shook his head at her hesitation. “Never mind. Good night." 

“No, I’ll stay.” 

Knowing she was risking her position as well as her heart, she dropped onto the edge of the bed. 

"Ummmm... We should turn the lights off before someone else wakes up and sees you here," he suggested, reaching for the lamp.

The flip of the switch left them in almost complete darkness, with only the moonlight and city lights from the windows on the other side of the curtains getting through.

"I only got one bottle of Coke, you can have it," she offered.

"No, I can drink water. You take it."

"How about we share?" It was a bold, intimate suggestion that even took Nancy herself by surprise. 

Jonathan cleared his throat.

"Okay," he replied. 

They settled into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying the snacks. 

"I don't even remember the last time I had a hot dog," he proclaimed.

"You should eat more. The food they make here doesn't look too bad to me."

"Well, I haven't had much of an appetite lately."

"Do you want to talk about what happened before? What you were seeing when I got here?”

“No, not really... Another time perhaps." She wondered if that time would ever come. “Tell me what you did for Independence Day," he suggested.

“Barb and I went on a picnic earlier tonight. They were also showing a film at the park. Then I came here. That’s it.”

“What was the film about?”

“The war, of course. What else would they be showing on July 4th?" 

“I’ve had enough of the war to last me several lifetimes.”

“That’s how I feel too, seeing everyone here. They say it’s going to be over soon, though.”

“I hope so.”

Rising from the bed, she took all the wrappings, packing everything into the bag she'd brought with her. _Leave no evidence._

There was no telling how long it would be until they had a chance to be alone once more, so she boldly leaned down to touch her lips to his cheek. He stayed was still as a statue and she was rather sure he didn't take a single breath until she pulled away.

"Good night, Jonathan. Be well." 

 


	4. Breach

_“The way her fingers flutter through the space around her. Each a thing he hopes never to forget.”_  
_― Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See_

 

It was a way to escape at first. There was now a man who had come from the Pacific lying in the bed next to Jonathan's. The stranger's wounds were not healing, but instead continuously released a putrid smell that made Jonathan sick. The other man was also in a world of physical pain and seemed to be unconscious most of the time. The smell of blood, puss and urine brought all Jonathan's demons back to the surface, so he ran. Well, as much as you could run with two crutches and a prosthetic he still was not accustomed to. The muscles on his wounded leg were weak, and would ache if he overexerted himself. 

His visions came more frequently now, triggered by almost anything. It was as if he was literally going more insane the more time he managed to put between himself and his experiences. They were fighting not to be forgotten. They would not leave him alone. Now he found himself on the floor below his, standing right outside the ward. It was insane, wanting to see Nancy again, but that was why he was there. She had seen him at his worst ten days before, on Independence Day, and he'd barely spoken to anyone since then. Surely after that night she was aware the extent of his problems, having seen him in that state. Stupidly he even wished she wanted to see him again.

 _Six weeks._  Six measly weeks. That was how long she would still be working at the hospital. She would be gone from his life for good after that. He didn’t know what to think about her late night visit or the kiss on his cheek. She was the girl who the other men looked forward to seeing, told crude jokes about and occasionally even proposed marriage to. Now he felt like one of them, following in her wake like this. It was wrong, really. The only details that separated him from the others was that he would never utter a single word about her to anyone else, and that he was most definitely not about to propose to her, not even in jest.

Wondering how long he would be able to stay there until a nurse or another staff member came and evicted him back to his own ward, he nearly missed Nancy's friend Barbara passing him. Their eyes met and she raised a brow, but said nothing. Jonathan sighed, relieved that at least she wasn't going to tell him to leave. In fact, Barbara soon returned, carrying a chair.

"Hi. You're Jonathan, right?"

"Yes."

"You should sit down. I'll go and find Nancy for you." He grimaced at her words.

"No, please. I know she's working, and I don't want to disturb her. I didn't come here for that... I shouldn't even be here. Please, just let me sit here for a while and I'll drag myself back to my own bed."

"We should let Nancy decide. Wait here," she replied, adjusting the glasses perched on her nose.

"Thank you for the chair."

"You're welcome."

His good leg soon began tapping a nervous rhythm on the floor. Maybe he should get the hell out of there before Nancy- all of a sudden she was there, walking along the corridor toward him.

“Hi."

“Hi.”

“You got a new leg, I see," she said, nodding toward his prosthetic. 

“A few days ago. I’m not very good with it yet and it makes my leg hurt,” he admitted with a deep sigh, knowing the aches that would be the price of his little excursions.

“I think it looks good.”

Feeling the need to explain himself, Jonathan spoke. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here."

“You’re not a prisoner, you can move around the building if you want to. I don’t need an explanation," she answered.

“Today’s been a bad one, and I just wanted to... This is going to sound crazy.”

Nancy shook her head. "You're not crazy." _Yes, he was._

“I didn’t ask to speak to you, because I know I have no right to do that. I only wanted to see you... That you were still around. I’m sorry for interrupting your work. Your friend brought me a chair and decided to tell you I was here.”

“It’s all right,” her voice lowered as she continued "I was hoping to see you again." 

He swallowed hard. _Had she really missed him?_

“Well, I’d better get going before anyone notices we’re here.”

“My break’s coming up in an hour. If you want to, we can go downstairs for coffee.”

He shook his head. “I would not ask for your spare time," he assured her. 

"Well, I'd like to have that coffee with you, whether it's on my free time or not."

"People will talk."

"And Jonathan Byers, do you really care what people may or may not talk about us?" She asked, grinning at him.

He laughed in return. "No, I don't." But he cared about what people said about _her._

"You'll wait here then 'til I'm ready?"

He nodded. "Yes."

***

It was a week later, and Jonathan and Nancy had taken refuge in the ground floor cafeteria once again. She often lingered after her shift had ended to sit with him there for a while. Usually nobody bothered them, but now there was a group of newer patients seated at the next table, calling out to them. Well, to Nancy for that matter. 

“Can we go outside for a while?” He suggested, because the alternative was that he'd make a scene. Nancy's disregard of the other men's behavior was the only thing keeping him calm. 

“Of course. Do you need-“

“I’ve got it.” He managed with just one crutch now, especially if he didn't spend long on his feet. 

It was the first time in weeks that he’d been in fresh air. The sun hitting his eyes made them water and sting, but he simply closed them and let the warmth of the rays touch his face. What a difference from the musty wards this made.

“Do you want to sit down? There’s a bench a little ways over.”

“Sure.”

It felt good to rest his leg, but he hated that such a short distance could get him out of breath. He was in terrible shape. She sat down beside him, leaving a distance between them that was both too much and not enough. The sunlight made Nancy’s blue eyes sparkle like the waves of ocean water. He wished he could drown in them and never surface again. If he still had a camera, she would be his favorite subject. Especially this version of her; sitting in the sun, her hair escaping from the band, her eyes like sapphires. 

"What happened to your leg?" She asked, but then shook her head. "You don't have to answer that," she immediately added. Nevertheless, he wanted to. As bad as the end result had been, it wasn't even close to the worst he'd experienced.

“I know I wasn’t there, but please tell me. I can handle it," she prompted again.

Jonathan smiled.

“I know you can, but these are not stories that anyone should hear.”

“Or live through.”

“Yes. By the time I was wounded, most of the fighting was already over. As stupid as it sounds and is, the truck they were using to move us hit a mine,” he sighed, recounting moments right before the blast that knocked him out and ended his war.

“The truck caught fire and most of the survivors of the blast jumped out as soon as they could. I was left behind with the bodies. They couldn’t even hear me screaming for help.”

Her fingertips grazed the scar on his arm, making him shudder. The sensation was strange, but not unpleasant.

“I... I truly thought that was it for me. That I’d lived through all those dangers only to die because I was trapped in a burning truck.”

“But then they heard you?”

He nodded.

“Yes, they came for me, and that must’ve been when I blacked out, because I don’t remember anything between that and the time I woke up in a military hospital in England. After that the nightmares began." She was the first person he'd told any of that. Even his mom had received a watered-down version of the events.

Her fingers grazed his, and he instinctively turned his hand over, exposing the palm. Nancy's fingers interlaced with his and no words were required. 

"So, when you have those nightmares, is that what you see? The burning truck?"

He squeezed his eyes shut. This was the part he wasn't ready to talk about. "No, it's not. It's there sometimes, but mostly not."

"And you don't want to tell me about it?"

"No," he huffed. "I'm sorry, but I... I need to be alone right now." 

Nancy looked sad, but nodded. "All right."

"I'm so sorry I'm like this," he told her back softly as she picked up her purse and started walking away from him. Hearing him she turned around.

"I wish I knew how to make things better," she replied. A tear slipped out of the corner of her right eye, making him feel even worse. This was one of the reasons that any sort of affection or feelings between them was such a bad idea. He was hurting her, but he couldn't leave things between them like this, couldn't let her leave.

"Nancy, wait," he called out. She stopped in her tracks and turned around.

"What is it?"

Getting to his feet as fast as he could, he reached her and took one of her hands in his before kissing her knuckles. Her gasp at the touch made his eyes dart to hers. Nobody had ever looked at him like that before, and he liked it. _She_ liked this, which made him braver.

Turning over the hand he was holding, he pressed another kiss on her skin, this time the inside of her wrist. God, her skin was so soft and he yearned to taste more of it. Goosebumps rose on the skin of his arm as she suddenly put her free hand on top of his. It felt like a request, so he picked it up and kissed the same spots as on the other side.

He was still holding her hands when she placed them on his cheeks, softly caressing the burn scars on his chin. The skin was still more sensitive there, but he liked it.

“We should stop this,” he said, unsure if he was talking about this particular meeting or their entire friendship.

“Is that what you want?” Her tone was husky, the sound of it messing with his brain.

“It’s what’s for the best.”

_It would be easy, so very easy, to kiss her right now._

"Let's go outside the compound when you're feeling up for it."

He scoffed lightly. "I still haven't been discharged, I'm not allowed to go anywhere."

"But you wouldn't mind breaking the rules a little, would you? I work here, therefore I have connections. I can make it happen... On a weekend."

It sounded stupid and dangerous and fantastic, which was all Jonathan could want, but he had to face the embarrassing reality of his situation.

"I can't move very far on my own, and I don't want to sit in a wheelchair. So we'll have to put that on hold, I'm afraid."

"You need to work hard, then. Will you still see me tomorrow after work?"

He couldn't say no. "Yes."

The most baffling thing about Nancy was that the more time they spent together, the less she treated him like a patient and the more like he was nothing but a normal man. 

***

His mother and Will tended to visit him on Saturdays, so he didn't expect them to show up on a Sunday. Seeing his mother wave at him from the main entrance as he was chatting at the cafeteria with Nancy over sandwiches froze all the blood in his veins. _Oh Jesus, no._

"Good morning, both of you. I knew you worked at this hospital Nancy, but I didn't know you- uh, know, Jonathan," said his mother, her head flying between his and Nancy's faces, the look on her face happy but surprised. He gently smacked his snickering little brother's arm.

"She's never going to get over this," whispered Will.

"Nancy's been helping me with my rehabilitation," he explained to his mother, maintaining eye contact with Nancy, hoping she understood. The puzzled look on her face transformed into a smile, and she nodded, touching his mother's arm lightly.

"Yes, Mrs. Byers. Jonathan's been making great progress lately."

"Oh, that is wonderful. I didn't know you worked on the weekends, Nancy."

"Only sometimes."

"Well, it's great to see you. Do you want anything to eat or drink? I'd be happy to buy you lunch."

"No, thanks. Actually, I need to get going. It was great seeing you again, Mrs. Byers. See you next week, Jonathan."

"See you."

Nancy was gone in a flash, which left him grateful. However, the relief was short-lived as his mother dropped into the chair opposite to his and leaned closer.

"Is this serious?" She asked, her eyes shining with happiness.

"Mom... It's nothing."

"Oh, I can tell it's most definitely not nothing. Jonathan, I know things have been hard, but you're my son. I've known you since the day you were born, and I'm not stupid. You have never looked at a girl that way. It's all right, you know, to love someone. We'd all be so happy for you."

He felt like he was going to choke.

"Stop it! Just stop it, Mom! You have... You don't understand."

"Then make me understand, Jonathan! You need to talk to us!"

"Mom's right, Jonathan," agreed Will, giving him the same stern look as their mother.

_Not here. Not now. He couldn't do it._

"Please, let's change the subject. I'm begging you."

His mother sighed. "Fine, but we're not going to let you off this hook. You will never be alone in this world, Jonathan."

Unless they stopped, he was going to cry make a fool out of himself in public.

"Another time, I promise."

Despite the uncomfortable encounter and the false hope he felt his family had been given, Jonathan's heart felt lighter that day after saying goodbye to his family. Perhaps they didn't understand him, but they tried so hard, and he wanted to try for them, too. Succumbing to his demons would be a betrayal of his mom, Will, Jane and his stepfather. And of Nancy. _Four more weeks._ Every single day there was a little less sand left in the hourglass. There was nothing he could do to slow it down or stop it, and he truly did not want to stop Nancy from returning to school, but he was determined to make her wish a reality. He'd leave the hospital grounds with her as soon as he could. 

When he reached his bed, there was a neatly folded note hidden between the pages of the book he was currently reading. The familiar handwriting put a smile on his face before he even had time to take in the words.

_I like the way you touch me._

_-N.W_

 

 


	5. The Dam

_“We all grew up before we were grown up.”_  
_― Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See_

 

"Nancy, there's a letter for you," announced Barb, sorting through their mail.

Nancy took the envelope, recognizing the handwriting. _Steve._ She felt slightly guilty for not writing to him more than once all summer. In fact, she hadn't even had a chance to reply to his previous letter, which had arrived weeks ago. Yet now there was another one.

Nervously, she located their letter opener, sinking onto the couch to read. 

_Dear Nancy,_

_As I'm sure you at home know, the war will end very soon, although the exact date still remains unknown to everyone. For the last couple of months I have done little else but think about my future and what I want from it. I realize you had your reasons to end our relationship after high school, but the truth is that I never stopped loving you._

_Would it be so terrible of me to ask for a second chance? And would it be impossible for you to grant it to me?_

_The reason I'm asking these questions is because I feel like there is nothing to be lost by trying. I will be home soon, and when I arrive, I would love nothing more than for you to agree to be my wife._

_Love always,_

_Steve_

She blinked, and then read the letter again. And for a third time. There was no getting around it, Steve was truly proposing to her in a letter. 

"You're white as a sheet, Nance. What's the matter?" Asked Barb, a concerned frown on her face.

"Read this."

Barb scanned the letter, her eyes widening with every row of writing she took in.

" _Oh my God._ What are you going to say?"

"Obviously I'm not going to marry him. He wants to settle down in Hawkins, which I still don't want. And then..."

"There's Jonathan?" Guessed Barb knowingly.

"I've began to doubt if I ever loved Steve."

"Are you going to tell Steve that?"

Nancy shook her head.

"I can't put that in a letter. I'm going to ask him to come see me in Chicago when he's back. We can talk then."

"Well, as long as he doesn't get the wrong idea about you asking to meet him."

"Yeah, I'll have to think about what I write."

"Speaking of thinking... You mentioned you wanted my help with something?"

"Yup. I want to take Jonathan out of the hospital, and not just to the grounds. Outside, like to a park."

"Just making sure: you want my help breaking the rules?"

"Correct. I wouldn't ask this from anyone except my best friend."

Barb rolled her eyes.

"Of course you wouldn't because nobody else would do it for you, and I do so much of the paperwork at our ward. I'll do my best. When do you want to do it?" 

"Uh, I was thinking the weekend after the next. Sunday."

"Right. I'll take a look at next week's rosters and schedules."

"Thank you, Barb. I'll handle everything else myself."

"And if you two get caught, I'm denying all responsibility and publicly disowning you as my best friend."

They both laughed.

"I'll make this up to you somehow," Nancy promised.

She only had three more weeks left. _They_ only had three more weeks left. The closer her last day was, the more anxious she felt. How could she simply leave Jonathan behind? It seemed to be what he was expecting, and she hadn't truly approached the topic with him yet. What would happen to him? What if she never heard from him again, but only found out through his family that he was no longer with them? He remained moody and had confessed to her that sleep was still a very rare guest for him. But she'd known all this, hadn't she? She'd gone and fallen for someone who could not be helped. Even now she couldn't bring herself to regret it.

***

Japan surrendered on August 15th, immediately starting a wild celebration at the hospital. All mobile (and some semi-mobile) patients were out of their beds, moving about and in great spirits. Jonathan appeared relieved and more relaxed than normal as well as they sat outside together. There were plenty of others walking on the grounds, so they kept a respectable distance from one another. It was killing her, not being able to be closer to him. Silently she pondered how many of these quiet afternoon moments they would get to spend together. 

"Penny for your thoughts," he said softly.

"It just hit me that as the whole war is coming to an end, so is the summer," she replied, not ready to meet his eyes.

"I know. You need to get back to your life."

"This _is_ my life, Jonathan."

"I meant... It's different here, you know. At the hospital, being isolated from everything and everyone else. I'm sure college is a whole other world."

"It is... But if you are suggesting that I won't wish to hear from you once I leave, you're dead wrong."

"Nancy..."

"Stop," she begged, no longer able to swallow her tears.

"Well, I can't ignore it if you're crying like that," he sighed, taking her hand into his.

"I'm sorry, but I worry-"

"About me?"

"Yes."

"Nothing that happens to me from now on is your fault, all right? You've been... Important to me. The state I'm in has nothing to do with you. None of it. You have so many decades ahead of you, and things are looking up now that the war's over, too.

_But I don't want to do it without you._

"It's taken many things from many people, including me, but I don't want anyone else to lose anything. Not my family. Not you. I'll carry the consequences."

She nodded bravely. Although Jonathan often insisted he was not the same man who had left for war, she knew that not to be the case entirely. He had worked to support his family since he was thirteen, he had done everything for them, and that was what he was still doing. Looking after others. "I still want us to enjoy the time we have," she said, voicing none of her other thoughts.

"I want that too."

Jonathan's fingers climbed under her chin, turning her face towards him.

"What are you looking at?" She asked, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. He looked so serious.

“Your eyes. They’re beautiful, even when you're crying,” he told her, tearing his gaze away from hers before blushing. 

“I like yours too," she answered, hoping he was currently thinking along the same lines as she was. Deciding to take on a leap of faith, she whispered "Kiss me, Jonathan."

The thought must have been on his mind as well, because he locked eyes with her again before leaning forward. She loved the gasp escaping him at the first touch. It was gentle and hesitant, and when she did not pull away, he closed the distance between them again. This time she parted her lips for him, and luckily he understood what she was asking for. The kiss deepened, his other arm wrapping around her waist to bring her closer while the other one traveled to her hair, releasing the pins in it, brushing the free locks off from one side. Kissing him was everything she had imagined it to be, and more. 

She was about to protest when his lips left hers, but soon she felt them at her neck, right under her ear. Tilting her head, she exposed more of her neck to him. Another kiss landed lower on her neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

“Jonathan,” she sighed, her arms around him tightening.

“I want to do this all day,” he admitted, whispering the words into her ear.

“Then don’t stop.”

"This is a public place."

"Everyone's celebrating, nobody will pay attention to us," she pleaded, knowing he was unlikely to budge.

"Even so," he sighed, allowing one more peck on her lips before pulling back.

She pouted, receiving a teasing grin from him in response. It was time to wipe that off his face, because if there was anything she knew, it was how to tease him.

"Next Sunday... I'd like you to come and visit our apartment. Barb will be in Hawkins, visiting her parents."

Nancy watched him swallow, so she upped the stakes, placing a hand on his upper thigh for emphasis. Jonathan closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"If you insist," he replied.

"Oh, I do."

She would be lucky to be able to focus on anything else besides their little trip until Sunday.

***

"We need to be back before dinner, or they'll start suspecting," she told Jonathan as they walked to her car. Jonathan had recently given up the crutches entirely and now relied on a single cane.

"Right. It's still almost the entire day,"

She nodded.

"I'm not sure if I want to know what you did to make this happen," he joked.

"Barb has access to the Head Nurse's office. She checked out the schedule and the staff rosters, and it turned out that one of the nurses working in your ward today is a friend of hers. This friend, Katy, agreed to claim to have seen you at lunch."

"That's an impressive scheme," he replied, nodding.

"I hope it works. Now, do you think there's enough space-"

"I'll be fine," he assured her, backing into the shotgun seat.

Once they were both seated properly, she started the car.

"I like your car," he said, looking around her 1938 Ford.

"Thanks. I bought it myself, although I don't use it very often." It was in fact the first large purchase she'd made using fully her own savings.

"Will drives my car now. I doubt I'll ever need it again."

Despite the freedom she was feeling from not being cooped up in the hospital with him, she sensed his somber mood. This was another bad day. 

”How’s your family doing otherwise? Your mom is always so nice to me when I’m home and run into her.” Jonathan sighed, shaking his head.

“Chief Hopper is good for her. But... I don’t know. So much has happened since I left home, it feels like I don’t fit in my old life anymore. My mom, Hopper, Will and Jane are a family.”

“You’re part of it, too.”

“Not anymore.”

“Of course you are. I always remember Will not being able to stop talking about you when he was younger. He admires you very much.”

“He’s all grown now. He doesn’t need me. It’s not the same. They all... Have these expectations of me that I can’t live up to. I’m not the person they think I am.”

“That doesn’t mean they don’t want you around.”

“You didn’t know me before, Nancy.”

“I know you cared a great deal about them then and you obviously still do."

"I know I'm really ruining the day here, and you've worked so hard for this. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. We'll do whatever you feel up for doing."

***

Nancy's heart was pounding hard in her chest as she parked the car in front of the building she and Barb were staying at. 

"So, would you like to come upstairs?” She asked, knowing he might say no at this point.

“You have no idea," he answered, flashing her the first smile of the day. 

She grinned.

They both knew what was going to happen and she couldn’t possibly have wanted it more. It was more behavior that would be unacceptable in her parents’ eyes, but she couldn’t have cared less. The things he could make her feel with just a simple touch or a kiss were brand new and something that required exploration.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?" She asked as they got inside her apartment.

"No, I'm fine."

"Will you kiss me again today?"

"If you let me."

Oh, she'd let him do a lot more than that.

He took a seat on the couch while she dropped down onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"Is this all right?" She asked.

"Yes." That was all the invitation he required to kiss her again, this time with the kind of intensity he would never have shown in public. When he rested one of his palms on her thigh, she immediately moved it underneath her dress, eliciting a moan from him.

"You were wearing the same dress on Independence Day, weren't you?" He asked, breaking the kiss.

She nodded. "I wore it again today, for good luck."

"I love it," he confessed, moving his fingers on the bare skin of her thigh. 

"That's good." She took the opportunity to attack his neck with kisses, while slipping her hands underneath his shirt. "Can we take this off?" 

"Hmmm," was his only reply, and she couldn't decipher it. "Was that a yes or a no?"

"I don't think you'd want to see... The burns aren't pretty."

"I don't care. I want to be close to you."

After careful consideration, he finally nodded and helped her lift the shirt over his head.

There were burns, but she thought little of them aside from how much they must have hurt. "Are they still sore?"

"Not really."

The skin of his bare chest was warm, the beat of his heart under her hand steady but quick, like hers. A sudden bout of love for him overcoming her, she embraced him tightly, tucking her head under his chin. 

"We don't have to do this," he told her, clearly taking her change of approach as hesitation.

"I know, but I want to."

"I do, too."

"We should go to my bedroom."

***

Jonathan was seated on the edge of her mattress, watching as she stood before him, unbuttoning her dress. She felt warmth gathering on her cheeks under his undivided attention. Her dress soon found its way to the floor, as did her undergarments. 

He appeared to be completely frozen at the sight of her as she laid down next to him on the bed.

“You can touch me,” she whispered, placing his hand on one of her breasts before leaning back.

The hand on her breast moved, lightly caressing the nipple. She sighed in pleasure as he leaned over her, dropping a kiss in the space between her breasts.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, the compliment almost coming out as a moan.

“Kiss me again.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere you want.”

His lips closed around one of her nipples, making her groan aloud. 

"Take these off," she told him, hooking a finger into his belt.

That seemed to flip some switch on inside his head, making him retreat to the other end of the bed, turning his back to her. He was panting, clearly needing her as she needed him, but something was off.

"Jonathan?" She carefully spoke. "What is it?" She asked, believing she already knew the answer.

"I can't do this. I want to, but I can't. It's all so... Ugly and unnatural."

Yes, it was about his leg.

Approaching him from behind, she wrapped herself around him, her chin on his shoulder.

"You're not weak, Jonathan. And you're not Frankenstein's creation either."

He cleared his throat.

"I can... I mean I don't know what I'm doing here at all, but if I could just try to make you feel good, that would be all right with me," he said quietly.

"We can start with that if you want to. As long as you stay with me."

He nodded, turning back to look at her. 

"Come here," she beckoned, pulling him down on top of her again.

Recovered, he began making his way down her body, stopping to kiss her so many times she lost count. Reaching the juncture of her thighs, he looked up for her permission. "Yes," she said, opening her legs wider to give him more access.

His fingers probed at her gently, his eyes on hers the entire time to watch her reaction. Her eyes widened in surprised when he lifted her leg to slip underneath it, positioning his mouth at her center. "I can stop-"

"No." She'd never had this done to her, but the idea was exciting.

Nancy gasped at the first flick of his tongue. As he continued, the pressure in her lower belly built up. Her moans increased in volume, and finally she felt her muscles spasm. Groaning his name, she reached for his hand. He settled down next to her, an elbow supporting his head.

"Wow," she said.

"I loved doing that."

"Can I touch you now?" She panted.

The nervousness was back in his eyes, but he nodded.

Jonathan shivered at her touch, especially when she raked over the burn marks. He was lean, but there was a masculine strength to him that she found incredibly appealing. She paused at his belt.

"Can I-"

"No. I mean, I'll do it," he declared, swallowing hard.

Sitting up, he removed his pants while grabbing something from the pocket, and turned away to take the prosthetic off before letting his underwear fall to her bedroom floor. 

“Are you sure about this, Nancy?” He asked, showing her the condom in his hand.

“Yes.”

“I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“I know.”

He took it slow, filling her inch by inch. It stung at first, but the pain soon faded, leaving her with only the feeling of him buried deep inside of her. His eyes were on hers, darker than she’d ever seen them before. The expression on his face was of both pain and pleasure, as if he was having trouble controlling himself. 

"We'll have time to do this again," she said, wanting him to lose himself in her and to find the same pleasure he'd brought her.

His movements quickened, making her feel the full effect of his size, before he collapsed beside her with a moan. He immediately reached for her, and she went into his arms without a single doubt in her mind. 

"That was... I don't even know what that was," he admitted, laughing. She laughed too, laying her head against his chest. 

It didn't take him long to fall asleep, and Nancy took the opportunity to pull on a robe, clean herself up and prepare lunch. All of a sudden, she heard his yells. They were the screams of a man possessed.

_No! No. No! Please no, not again!_

Turning off her stove, she ran into the bedroom, finding Jonathan curled into a ball. It was exactly like on the 4th of July, and she reached out for him, hoping to calm him down.

"No, no! Get away from me! Leave me alone!" He yelled at her touch, pushing her hand away. 

"Jonathan, it's Nancy. You're in my apartment in Indianapolis, you're safe."

"No, no."

"Yes. Open your eyes and _look at me._ "

 She grabbed him by the shoulders and made him still as he struggled to open his eyes. Finally, it worked.

"Nancy?"

"Yeah."

He pulled her to his arms. "I'm sorry," he said. "They're not going away."

"I know, I'm sorry too."

"You asked me what I was seeing... It's all those bad nights blended together. In France, Holland, Belgium... All of it. The artillery shells, the tracers, the dead men in foxholes. Men I knew. The cold, the blood. Nancy, it's hell. _Why am I here, why am I here?_ "

She held him tighter, trying not to cry at his pain. As beautiful as what they had was, it would not be enough to save him. 

"I'll draw us a bath, all right?"

"All right."

When he was settled in the tub, she returned to the bedroom. There were two folded pieces of paper on her desk, one of them being the letter to Steve that still remained unsent, and the other one a new note to slip into Jonathan's pocket for him to find when he was back at the hospital. Quickly taking the one meant for Jonathan, she pushed it into his pocket before heading for the bathroom to join him in the warm water. If all they would have was this day, she was going to make the most of it.


	6. Broken

_“What the war did to dreamers.”_  
_― Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See_

 

Jonathan was back in his bed by dinnertime that Sunday. After the events of the day he felt conflicted, cursing his nightmares, the visions plaguing him, chipping away his sanity one piece at a time. He'd seen other men with similar problems. They'd frozen in the battlefield, stopped talking, eating and sleeping for the most part. _Battle fatigue_ , it had been called. In severe cases they had been removed from their units. Had they recovered from it? Been able to go back to their families?

He had upset Nancy, and it wasn't even the first time. Nobody deserved to be around him when he was that far removed from reality, and especially Nancy, who had come to mean so much to him over only a few short months. As much as he tried to at first, there was no burying the memories of their day together. How soft her skin was under his touch, what she looked like when she wanted him to kiss her, how she wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him deeper inside of her, how she stroked his neck afterwards, a coy smile playing on her lips.  _Love._ He had always thought it wise to use the word sparingly, but he had to face the facts if he was to do the right thing for her. Slowly he had come to consider the idea that perhaps she was falling in love with him as well. A few months earlier it would've sounded insane, but now he wondered, if maybe...

As he changed before bed, his hand came on a piece of paper in the side pocket of his pants. Pulling it out, he figured it must be another one of Nancy's notes. He had saved every single one so far. Opening the folded square, he fixed his eyes on the familiar handwriting.

_Dear Steve,_

_Thank you for the letter. I hope you arrive home safely. Most things around Hawkins have not changed much, although I have myself been very busy this summer and not spent much time there. As for your proposal, I do not see it fit to give you an answer in a letter. Therefore I hope you will agree to see me in Chicago, where I will again attend college courses for the semester._

_Hoping to hear from you soon,_

_Nancy_

_Proposal?_ Steve Harrington had proposed to Nancy in a letter? He was going to be sick.

It was difficult not to feel betrayed, but they had not spoken of a future, had they? She _could_ marry whoever she wanted. Any future with him would’ve been filled with instability, hardship and endless question marks. Nobody wanted that. Now he could also put the rest his doubts on whether Nancy may have felt about him as he felt about her. The answer was clear enough. So what had he been then to her? Anger rose in him, but it was useless to think about her motives, wasn't it? They didn't matter, when he'd always meant for nothing to occur between them anyway.

His initial intention was to tear the piece of paper into shreds and throw them out, but he stopped himself in time. Nancy was to visit him after work the next day, he would return the letter to her. It would be the easiest way to put and end to this. 

For the entire night, he rolled in bed, unable to find sleep or peace. He tried to convince himself it wasn't because of her, but that was a lie. It was a good deal for her. Steve Harrington was from one of the wealthier families in Hawkins, still had both of his legs attached and probably didn't suffer from hysteria. He'd never particularly liked Steve, but then again, he'd never liked most people, preferring solitude or the company of his family. Steve and his friends had been among the nastier people he'd gone to school with. Nancy was too smart, too independent and too strong-willed to end up with a guy like that. 

***

The sun finally rose on Monday morning, bringing the regular morning rounds with it. The doctor looked at his leg without the prosthetic, at times giving an approving nod or a hum. It looked good to him, too, not that he was a medical professional of any kind.

"Can you move around comfortably, Sergeant Byers?" Asked the doctor.

"Yes."

"Just with a cane for support and balance, right?"

"Correct."

"Excellent. I see little reason to keep you here much longer, Sergeant. How does Wednesday sound for you?"

"To be discharged?"

"Yes."

Jonathan shrugged.

"It's as good as any other day."

"I'll get the paperwork ready. The Head Nurse will contact your family."

The doctor scribbled something on his notepad and continued onto his neighbor, who was now apparently recovering, but still spent most of his time asleep.

 _Home._  Jonathan could go home. He had allowed himself few thoughts of the house he'd grown up in, his room that was now being used by his stepsister Jane. His mother's cursing, constant smoking and terrible cooking. The keys were always lost. Castle Byers in the woods, where nobody had probably spent time in years. Having to fix the roof of the house after most storms. Hanging up the porch swing with Will for his mom and Jane to sit in. Longing washed over him, tugging at him, making him forget all about his intentions to not become a burden, and his visions that couldn't be stopped. 

He buried his face in his hands as he slowly began to see it. His fundamental weakness. That he _couldn't_ simply leave this hospital and disappear. _Just for a week_ , he told himself _, just for a week._

***

Nancy looked nothing short of radiant as she waited for him at their regular table in the cafeteria. Of course she was happy, she was getting married after all. Suddenly he felt like being a coward and leaving her with only the letter, without a single word. It hurt too much to even look at her.

"Hey," she greeted. "I bought you a coffee."

"Uh, thanks, but I think we can make this short."

Nancy frowned.

"What do you mean?"

He slid the letter towards her on the tabletop, and she grabbed it, her horrified expression telling him she knew exactly what it was.

“Jonathan, I’m sorry. I left you the wrong paper-“

“That much is obvious. It’s okay. At least I know where I stand now.”

“Let me explain.”

Jonathan shook his head.

“There’s no need. You didn’t make me any promises, and I didn’t make you any. I can’t say I’m not a little disappointed though... I thought you had more ambition than this. That you didn't want to be just another mid-western housewife,” he mocked, his cruelty and bitterness intentional. 

“You have absolutely no idea what you’re even saying!” She hissed angrily.

“It doesn’t matter. Goodbye Nancy," he said, attempting to leave, but she wrapped her fingers around his arm, stopping him.

"You're so wrapped up in yourself and your problems that you never listen to anyone!"

"Right. Well, you can stop worrying about me now."

"I'm trying to save your life, you... You idiot!"

"I never asked you to come into my life and make things more difficult! I hope you've enjoyed making me your little charity project, but just for the record: I'm not interested in being saved."

" _Charity project?_ Is that how you really think I see you?"

"Exactly. You felt sorry enough for me to let me kiss you, to sleep with me. Let's forget any of this ever happened."

"Fine by me. Perfect."

With that, he limped away from her. She could’ve caught up with him easily enough, but chose not to follow. A part of him pathetically wished she had.

***

 The following afternoon Jonathan sat outside. He couldn't bear the background noise at his ward anymore. _Not long now._ When the bench bent slightly from added weight, he opened his eyes only to find his brother there.

"Will? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you alone once before I leave for Boston. I'm leaving later today."

Jonathan swallowed. He'd somehow managed to forget it was already time for Will to go.

"Hop's coming to pick you up tomorrow. Mom has to work, but she told me to tell you she can't wait to have you home."

He nodded.

"You're even more quiet than usual, Jonathan. Coming home is good, right?"

"Yeah, it's just... I've been gone for a long time, Will. Sometimes I feel like a lot of things no longer make sense to me. It's hard to explain."

Will nodded, his face now grave, before reaching out to put a hand on Jonathan's shoulder.

"I know you're not all right. Mom knows too. It can't be easy, with everything, but will you try, please?"

Jonathan's chest ached. His brother had always been his Achilles heel. 

"I promise, Will."

"If you don't want to stay in Hawkins, you should come to the east coast. We could see each other more often. You could take some classes."

"We'll see."

"What about Nancy Wheeler?"

He shook his head.

"We're not... It was nothing." Or if it had been something, now it certainly wasn't. She would never forgive him, never speak to him again.

"Are you sure? Because it didn't look like it. You know Mom loves to blow everything out of proportion, but I think she was right."

"She wasn't."

"You deserve to have someone great, though, Jonathan."

"I'm hardly the most eligible bachelor in Indiana, or even in Hawkins."

"There are thousands of men with artificial limbs now. Mike and I have looked into the technology a little... Things are going to get better because the demand is huge."

"Shouldn't go get going already?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"No, I just don't want you to be late."

Will rolled his eyes a little, but rose to his feet. 

"I'll write you as soon as I can," he swore.

"Good. I want to hear everything about college. And Will?"

"Yeah?"

Jonathan stood up and pulled Will into an embrace, which he accepted. 

***

As promised, Jim Hopper and his trusty police car showed up to collect him on Wednesday afternoon. As often as he'd butted heads with the man as a teenager, he was grateful it wasn't his mother driving him home.

"Your mother's worried about you, but you probably already knew that."

"I did."

"Good. I know you may not want to hear this now or ever, but I know a thing or two about nightmares."

Jonathan remembered his stepfather mentioning that he had served in the previous war, and a bullet in his thigh had left him with a limp. Now they both limped.

"You can live with them, Jonathan. I'm not saying it's easy even now, but you can do it. And if it's up to me, you _will_ do it."

He nodded, although Hopper's gaze was focused on the street ahead. 

 

***

It was Nancy's last day of working at the hospital, and once again, Jonathan was twirling the pen between his fingers, unable to finish his letter. Were there any words in existence that would make her forgive him? 

_Dear Nancy,_

_First of all: I am so sorry. The way I behaved was unacceptable and unfair. You have only tried to help me and invested a significant amount of time in it. I spoke out of anger and jealousy, which I have no right to feel at all. I hope you will accept this gift as a symbol of my eternal gratitude for all your efforts. It comes with no strings, attachments or expectations._

_You are one of the people who made me see that even if I no longer wished to live, I had to try, if not for me, then for my family. So you did save my life in the end. As you likely are aware, I have traveled home to Hawkins for the time being. Soon I plan to head to the east coast. Boston, perhaps New York._

_I need to find my place in this world, Nancy, and I want to mend my relationship with Will. I wish you all the happiness possible in this world no matter which path you choose. Once more, I am so sorry for everything I said. I do not expect a letter from you in response, and you will never have to see me again._

_Regardless of the way things ended between us, I want you to know that I have no regrets. I will cherish the moments we shared until the day I die. I look forward to reading your articles one day._

_All the best,_

_Jonathan_

Maybe he should stop thinking and mail it. It wasn't possible to make things any worse, right?

***

September was in full swing as Jonathan sat on the front porch of his family home, listening to the sounds coming from the woods. Now, being able to spend time alone again, he felt more like himself than in ages. Nancy crossed his mind daily, especially the detail that he had sent the letter along with the present three weeks ago, and she had not written back. As he had told her, he'd expected nothing, but that wasn't to say he hadn't hoped. For one more chance to read her words, meant for him and only for him. 

The sound of an approaching car brought him out of his musings. He expected to see Hopper's car emerging to their driveway, but that was not to be. He recognized the car, though. It was Nancy's Ford. His breath coming out in shaky huffs, Jonathan got up and began to make his way to her. However, she was faster than him, marching up to the porch, her mouth pulled in a tight line. The anger in her eyes made him want to cower, but he knew he deserved every bit of her anger. She would probably slap him, but he was willing to take it.

Nancy spoke almost as soon as she'd stopped before him. ”Do you love me?” She demanded. If he had expected anything at all, it had _not_ been this.

“What?” He whispered stupidly, having heard her perfectly well the first time.

“Do you?” She asked again, this time grasping fistfuls of the fabric of his shirt.

“Of course I do," he replied.

Her arms left his chest, ending up behind his head to pull him down for a kiss. This wasn't like any of the kisses they had shared before. It was desperation, anger and hunger and love. Her fingers were pulling on his hair so hard it hurt, but that didn't matter. All that did was that she was pushing him against the door now, her hands at his belt.

"Let's go inside," he suggested.

"Show me your room."

He was currently using Will's room, which was all the way on the other end of the house. They stumbled into the room and she pushed him to sit on the bed, pulling his shirt off in the process. In return, he reached underneath the hem of her skirt to pull her underwear down. He could hardly believe this was happening, but not even an earthquake could have made him wish to stop. Nancy pulled his pants down while he frantically searched for a condom. 

She straddled him, her thighs spread on each side of his waist. 

"Do you love me, Nancy?" He asked, thrusting into her. She was just like last time, tight and wet and something that felt like made for him. 

"Oh God, Jonathan. _Yes._ I love you, I love you so much" she replied breathlessly, her nails scraping his bare back. She began to rock in his arms, the pace too much for him to last long, so he reached between them to touch her, rubbing at the spot he could tell she liked to he touched at. Her moans filled his ears, and finally he felt her tighten around him. That was when he let go, pushing into her so hard he was scared he'd hurt her, but she didn't seem to mind, her body still spasming around him. 

Gently, he pulled out of her and moved them both to lie on the bed. It was only then that he noticed that she was wearing the sterling silver bracelet he'd sent her.

"Do you like this?" He asked, fingering the delicate links.

"Yeah, I do. Mostly because it's from you. I forgive you, by the way."

He grinned, kissing her. This time it was slow and loving.

"Thank you. I can't believe you came all the way here to tell me that."

"I wanted to set things straight, and some things can't be done by letters, or even by the phone. Like turning down a proposal."

His heart skipped a beat.

"You're not going to marry Steve?"

"No, I'm not."

"It'd be all right if you did."

"I don't want to."

"Good."

"Good," she echoed, pecking him on the lips before leaving his arms. “You’re still leaving Hawkins, aren’t you?” She asked.

He nodded solemnly. “I am. I have to see if there’s a place for me out there.”

“Can I write you?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll have to send the first letter, though. As soon as you’ve settled in.”

“I will.”

“When will I see you again?”

He wished he could give her the answer the wanted to hear, but she deserved the truth. “I don’t know.”

“Still no promises then?”

“It’s better that way.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I have to, Nancy.”

She wiped at her eyes, but nevertheless straightened her dress and walked into the living room as he followed in her wake.

Jonathan opened the door to let her out, suppressing his urge to beg her to stay, to go with him. But that was not to be.

“I wish I could be what you want me to be, and what I want to be. But I can’t.”

She nodded sadly.

“I’m still proud of you, Jonathan. For being so strong, for trying to make sense of your life. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t,” he promised.

There they stood, taking in one another’s faces, not knowing when they would meet again. He was the one to break first, pulling her close with one arm.

“Jonathan, please don’t... Let’s not make this any harder than it already is. Please let me go,” she sobbed, shoving at his chest.

Nancy turned away from him and walked out the door. He couldn’t bring himself to close it, so he stood at the threshold, watched her climb in her car and eventually disappear from his sight. The sound of her car faded, leaving him only with the rustle of the soon-falling leaves in the trees around the house.

 


	7. Promises

_“A real diamond is never perfect.”_  
_― Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See_

 

"Hi, Steve."

"Hey, Nance. So, uh, I got your letter..."

Nancy cringed, nearly placing the receiver back in its cradle. She wanted to smack her head in the wall repeatedly until she forgot how bad of a mistake she'd made with the letters. It had nearly ruined everything with Jonathan, and now she might have to explain _Jonathan_ to Steve. Although on the other hand, refusing his proposal would be easier now.

"I'm so sorry, there was a mixup."

Steve was silent on the other end of the line.

"So you actually send letters like _this_ to someone? _Someone else?_ "

She closed her eyes in pain, gritting her teeth. _Oh God._

"Yes, it was meant for someone else."

"Who?"

"Does it matter?"

"Well, now it kind of does since it came to me after I'd poured out my heart into a letter for you. At first I thought it was meant for me, but it didn't make sense."

"Again, I'm sorry. I should've been more careful."

"So, who is it?"

"It's not your business."

"Come on, we've known each other forever. Is it someone from Hawkins? Someone I know?"

"Yes, okay, yes, it is. It's Jonathan Byers."

" _Jonathan Byers?_ "

"Yeah."

"How did you even talk to that guy?"

"He was a patient at the hospital I volunteered at this summer:"

"And you and him just-"

"It's really none of your business, Steve. I don't want to discuss him with you."

"Fine, then. Tell me what the letter you were supposed to send me said?"

"I was asking you to come to Chicago to meet me once you got home."

"So you could break my heart?"

"I didn't want to have to explain myself in a letter."

"Are you marrying Byers, then?"

She hesitated, although the truth was obvious. "No, I'm not."

"Did he take off after you two-"

"No, it wasn't like that!" 

"Do you love him?"

"Yes, I do. And he loves me, but sometimes things don't work out the way we want them to."

Nancy would be lying if she claimed that she hadn't considered following him to New York, or Boston, or wherever it was that he would end up. Nevertheless, she knew better. Jonathan would've been upset with her, and what was more important, she would've never been able to forgive herself.

Yet if she couldn't sleep at night, she stared into the ceiling of her room and wondered how he was. If he was lonely. If he missed her half as much as she missed him. On some days she hated him for making her feel this way, but so far there had been no days she would've chosen not to love him, if that option had been available.

"Tell me about it, Nance. I guess there's no need for me to make the trip there?"

"No, there isn't. I hope you find happiness with someone, Steve."

"And I hope things work out for you."

***

Jonathan's first letter arrived in October.

_Dear Nancy,_

_I hope you're well. How are classes going?_

_I am in New York right now. It's like nothing I've ever seen before. I believe you'd like it. I'm currently renting a room in Brooklyn, and looking for work. It could take a while with my limitations taken into account._

_This is one of the first times since I came back that I wish I still had my camera. The very first time was with you._

_Will and Mike are doing well, I saw them only last weekend in Boston. It's another place I believe you would like. It has a different kind of charm than New York City, but it is no less appealing._

_My current address is written on the envelope. I hope to buy a phone at some point. Would be it all right for me to call you?_

_Love,_

_Jonathan_

 

 _Love, Jonathan._ Those were the words she grasped onto. He had not mentioned his nightmares, which could mean anything. Perhaps they were even worse with all the additional noises and people, or perhaps they were the same. Would they ever get better? If they didn't, was there any hope for them either?

 ***

It took until December before Jonathan was able to secure a phone and a line, but that did not diminish Nancy's excitement when he finally called her.

"Hey," he said. She said nothing at first, simply wanting to listen to him, to savor the knowledge that he was really there and she could talk to him.

"I love you," were her first words.

She could hear him gasp on the other end.

"I love you too, Nancy."

"How are things going?"

"I got a job."

"But that's fantastic? Where?"

"At a shop that sells and fixes cameras."

"Sounds like a good place for you."

Jonathan sighed.

"It is, but I don't get to take photos and it doesn't pay that well. It's a start, though... How are you?"

"I'm doing great, it'll be nice to go home for Christmas. Are you coming?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"Oh."

"I don't get any days off and the cost is too big."

"I understand," she answered, swallowing her disappointment. "How long will this take, Jonathan? Until we see each other again?" 

"I still don't know," he sighed. "I think you should move on with your life, Nancy. Since I can't give any guarantees. We can be just friends, or we don't have to talk at all anymore. Anything you want."

"So you want me stop telling you I love you?"

She had to wait at least a minute until he finally answered.

"I wish you'd stop loving me," he said, his voice nothing but a mere whisper.

That had to be a lie. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. I think we should stop writing to each other for now, and no phone calls either."

"I don't like that idea."

"You'll thank me someday."

"Stop being so condescending, Jonathan. I can make my own decisions."

"I have to go, Nancy. Merry Christmas in advance."

And that was how he hung up on her. She didn't want to do what he'd suggested, but there was a part of her that said it was the right thing to do. To try to forget, to have faith that she could find the same connection again. This painful little dance they were involved in exhausted her. Perhaps he had a point. Nevertheless, she was still glad she'd saved all the letters he'd sent her from New York. There was at least one from every week since he'd been able to write. 

Despite the apparent end of their story, she received a package from him right before leaving for Hawkins for Christmas. Opening it revealed a thick layer of newspaper wrapping, encasing a tiny snow globe showcasing the skyline of New York. He must have mailed it before their last call. If only she could be there with him.

***

The arrival of spring always lifted Nancy's spirits and the spring of 1946 was no different. There were so many classes to excel in, and so many internships to apply for. Her favorite opening was at the Chicago Tribune, and she was ecstatic to be chosen. The offices of a real new paper and printing press was everything she could've ever dreamed of. Not that she was allowed to do any real writing, but her supervisor soon discovered that she had a knack for editing. 

There were times when she found herself still thinking about Jonathan, especially at night and at work. The Tribune hired several photographers, and she wondered if he would've been happy doing that for a living. If he had already been able to acquire a new camera. However, she soldiered on, no longer allowing herself to wallow or sulk because of Jonathan. 

"Nance, will you need the apartment this summer?" Asked Barb.

"They're letting me stay at the Tribune, so yes. Why are you asking?"

"Because I got a letter from Indianapolis, the hospital."

They both paused.

"They want me to come back for another summer."

"So we're not spending summer together?"

"Afraid not."

"This has to be the first since... Ever, I guess?"

Barb nodded. "I think so. Maybe it's a good thing, though. Who knows where life takes us after graduation?"

"I'll miss you, Barb."

"Hey, you'll come and see me, right? And I'll come here whenever I can."

"It's still not the same. We've been roommates for the last three years."

"You'll manage."

"I know I will."

As classes winded down for the summer, Barb packed her bags and left. Maybe it was the timing, but Nancy had found herself thinking more and more about the previous summer. They were like the flashes of a camera. Jonathan lying in bed, not talking, moving or eating. Jonathan's first smile at her. Her notes. Jonathan walking outside with her. Their first kiss. Their first time. The silver bracelet she hadn't been able to take off since she'd received it. _Stop it, stop it._

One day as she arrived home, there was a neat but thick envelope waiting for her. Without taking a better look at the front, she sliced it open to find a stack of photographs. They were all from New York or Boston, the places neatly labeled.

_Brooklyn Bridge at night_

_Central Park in April_

_Empire State Building_

_Grand Central Station_

_Faneuil Hall_

In the last picture she recognized Mike and Will, standing on a bridge in Boston, their confident smiles telling her how well they had become acclimated to their new home.

Did all these photos mean Jonathan now had a camera? Why had he sent these? Did it mean something? 

Biting into her lip, Nancy dug out a notepad and a pen, trying to recreate the message she'd accidentally mailed to Steve. It had been meant for Jonathan, so surely he deserved to know what she had wanted to tell him?

_I wish you'd always sleep this peacefully right beside me. If there is one day that I will never forget, it is this one._

_N.W._

***

A reply from Jonathan arrived two weeks later. It only had one word in it.

_Still?_

_\- Jonathan_

Her own reply was equally short.

_Always._

_N.W._

Next she got two words out of him.

_Me too._

_\- Jonathan_

A week after that her phone rang.

"This is Nancy Wheeler."

"Hi, Nancy."

"Jonathan? Is that really you?"

"It is me. Was it all right for me to call?"

"Of course."

"I called to say that things are... That I'm a little better. It's a work in progress, but it's going well."

"I'm happy for you."

"Do you truly still-"

"Yes, yes."

"Me too."

"When can you see me, Jonathan?"

"Christmas."

"That's around five months away."

"I know, but there's something I need to work on. We can't keep doing this, Nancy."

"The talking and not talking part?"

"Yeah."

"I agree."

"There are so many things I want to tell you... But I don't know if I can put everything into letters."

"You should try."

"I will. But will you see me at Christmas in Hawkins?"

"Yes."

"It's a promise, then."

She smiled. The first promise he'd ever made her.

***

_Dear Nancy,_

_How are you?_

_As I told you over the phone, there are at least a million things I want to tell you. The first and most important one is how much I miss you. I miss the feel of you in my arms, your lips on mine. How well your hand fits into mine. I miss all of it._

_Second of all, I cannot believe that you still want to have anything to do with me. I can't promise you that I will have no more bad days, but I'm starting to feel like myself again. Not necessarily exactly the Jonathan who left for war, but someone I need to be today._

_You have probably figured out that I was able to buy myself another camera. When I see you, you will be my only subject._

_Love, Jonathan_

She didn't know what had happened, but she loved him more than ever. 

_Dear Jonathan,_

_I'm good. My work at the Chicago Tribune is not the most exciting one, but I am gaining valuable experience by editing their articles._

_I miss you too. There's nothing I wish for more than to be able to kiss you again. You make me weak in the knees when you touch me._

_It is wonderful to hear how much better you're doing. Will you tell me all about it?_

_You can take as many pictures of me as you want._

_N.W._

She had never known Jonathan to be very bold when it came to writing about what he wanted, bu the letter she received in September made even her blush.

_Dear Nancy,_

_It has now been a year since we last met. I still remember the way you felt in my lap, how your nails left scratches on the skin of my back, how being inside of you felt. How you looked at me like I was nothing less than a whole man despite all my shortcomings. I love you more than any words can convey and all work I do is to make our future together possible. I hope that is what you still want._

_Love, Jonathan_

She was getting stupidly teary-eyed at his promise of a future together.

_Dear Jonathan,_

_I remember that day as if it was yesterday. It was so hard to walk away from you. Nobody has ever made me feel the way you do, and nobody ever will. I can't wait to feel you against me again._

_For a man who once promised nothing, you're making quite a few promises now. I love that. I love you, and I cannot wait for our future together to start._

_N.W._

*** 

Months passed, and in November Nancy was getting curious about the future he was promising but had yet to reveal anything about.

_Dear Jonathan,_

_I know we're only a month away from seeing each other again, but still I must ask: what kind of a future are you imagining for us? Where will we live?_

She paused at that, wondering if the next question would be too much. _Do you want to get married? Do you want to have children?_

There was nobody else she could see herself marrying, but he had not specifically mentioned it in his letters. It was best not to assume. Nancy herself had long wondered if she was even the marrying type in the first place, as she had found the traditional ideas of a wife and mother quite uncomfortable. Jonathan had opened all those doors she had believed to be shut for good. Nothing was clear-cut to her anymore. She still wanted a career in journalism, but she could still marry him. Maybe even have a child.

 ***

 Snow was falling as Nancy drove to the Byers house on December 22nd, anticipating her first meeting with Jonathan in more than a year. The lights were on inside the house as she parked her car, and she could see a lone figure standing in front of one of the windows.

Drawing in a deep breath and crossing her arms to ward herself against the cold, she stepped on the front porch where she had last said her farewells to Jonathan. Would he be expecting her tonight? 

Three times she knocked, and soon steps could be heard from the other side. It was not Jonathan. The treads were too light and there was no limp to be heard. Joyce Byers cracked the door open, immediately flashing Nancy a friendly smile.

“Hi, Mrs. Byers. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’m looking for Jonathan. Is he home?”

“No, Honey, he’s not here. I’m sorry.”

Her throat dry, Nancy was about to turn to leave, but Jonathan’s mother spoke again.

“He was supposed to come for Christmas, but then a couple of days ago he called me and said he had been delayed due to some important unfinished business. He said he’d be here by New Years, though. Would you like to come inside for coffee? I just made some.”

“Oh, I don’t want to bother you, Mrs. Byers.”

“Joyce, and you’re not bothering me. I could use the company. Hop’s at work and the kids are seeing their friends.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind a hot cup of coffee.”

The two women took seats opposite one another at the Byers kitchen table and Joyce set down a steaming mug in front of Nancy.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. How have you been, Nancy? How is school?”

“I’ve been good, thank you. It’s been interesting, the internships I’ve done have been very rewarding.”

“Are you going to stay in Chicago after you graduate?”

“I, uh-"

“Oh, I’m sorry, Nancy. I’m prying, aren’t I? My sons always tell me I’m too curious for my own good.”

“No, it’s all right. To be honest, I don’t know.” The exact details of her and Jonathan's future were still murky.

Joyce nodded. “Well, you’re still young. No reason to make rash decisions about your future.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how is Jonathan in your opinion?”

“Oh, Sweetheart, you shouldn’t be nervous at all. I know he’ll be more than happy to see you once he gets here. Otherwise, I think he’s truly happy there... As a mother, it breaks my heart to know that he’s not coming back here to stay, but all that matters is that he’s happy.”

Nancy nodded. “That’s good to hear. We’ve been writing and even spoken on the phone sometimes, but it’s not always easy to tell how he truly is.”

“Yeah, Jonathan is that way. He always has been, but even more now after the war,” sighed Joyce.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know him before.”

“Me too, Honey. But the past is in the past, right? Nothing that can be done about it. All we can do is look forward. Speaking of the future, you mother has invited us to your family’s New Year’s Eve party, so we’ll be seeing you-“

Joyce was interrupted by the phone ringing.

“Excuse me, Nancy.”

Nancy tried not to listen in on the call, but as soon as Joyce Byers uttered a familiar name, she couldn’t help herself. Drawn to the promise of the sound of his voice, she left the room.

“Yes, Jonathan. We all miss you. I know you’re sorry-“

Joyce went silent as she spotted Nancy. “Sweetie, Nancy’s here right now, visiting. She was looking for you. Would you like to speak to her?”

After hearing Jonathan’s reply, Joyce held up the receiver, smiling.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you. Jonathan?”

“Hey, Nancy. How are you?”

“I was hoping you’d be here, but otherwise I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I was supposed to be finished here by December 22nd, but it’s going to be at least another week. You’ll still be there though, right?”

“Yes, I’m not leaving until after New Years.”

“Great... It’ll be good to see you.”

“It’s been a long time.”

“It has,” he replied, inhaling. “I miss you,” he admitted.

It was relieving to hear him admit it. There had been no reply to her last letter and they hadn't spoke on the phone recently, either. 

“I miss you too.”

"Nancy?"

"Yes?"

"I haven't forgotten about your letter and what you asked me. You'll get your answer as soon as I get there, all right?"

She sighed. "All right."

"You're the one who said that some things shouldn't be sorted out on the phone or in letters."

Nancy chuckled at that. Of course he'd throw her own words back at her. "I guess I did."

"See you soon."

"See you, Jonathan."

 ***

Christmas passed with still no sign of Jonathan, and even on the evening of New Year's Eve he was nowhere to be found. Everyone else in the house, including Barb and her family as well as Mike's best friends and Jonathan's entire family, seemed to be on great mood. She'd been spending the night sitting in the corner of their couch, sipping wine. 

"Come on, Nance," said Barb, lowering herself beside her. "He'll be here when he can."

"I know. I should just turn in, I'm ruining the entire party."

"No, no. You're not. I'm actually not supposed to talk to you about this, but have you seen your brother lately? Or Jonathan's brother?"

Now that she thought about it, she hadn't.

"Where did they go, Barb?" She asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Barb sighed. "Okay. They went to pick up Jonathan from the train."

"They did?"

"Yes! They should be back in- let me see... Less than an hour."

"Why was this such a big secret?"

"Because he wanted to surprise you."

It was sweet, but she wished he'd asked _her_ to pick him up. They could've spent time alone on the drive back.

Nancy's heart jumped into her throat as soon as the headlights of Mike's car could be seen through the windows. They were finally here. Jonathan was nearly within an arm's reach from her. Placing her wine glass on the nearest table, she marched to the door and opened it, only to find her brother and Will behind it.

"Where's Jonathan?" She demanded.

Mike raised his brows at her.

"Hold your horses, Nance. He's coming."

The two younger men moved past her to remove their coats, finally letting her take a look at Jonathan. He was standing around ten feet from the door, slowly making his way to her on the icy driveway.

"Let me help," she insisted, about to step over the threshold, but Jonathan held up a hand.

"No, I'll be right there. I just really don't want to slip right now," he replied, offering her a smile.

She was starting to shake. Whether it was from the cold or from seeing Jonathan again, she wasn't sure.

"Come here," she said, reaching out to hug him, but he placed his hands on her shoulders, keeping her at bay.

"Wait. Just wait."

Time slowed down as he lowered himself onto the ground and produced a ring from the pocket of his coat.

"Nancy. You asked me if I was ever planning on marrying, and here's your answer: no, unless it's with you. We can live anywhere you want to. New York, Chicago, wherever. I love you with all my heart. I was supposed to wait until next summer when you'll have graduated, but I couldn't. This has been a long time coming. Will you marry me, Nancy?"

He was insane. Truly insane. But she loved him nonetheless. Wiping tears from her eyes, she got on her knees. Her palms landed on his cheeks.

"Of course. Yes, yes, yes. I love you."

"I love you too," he replied as he slipped the ring on her finger.

He still kissed her the same way, this time with one of his hands on the small of her back and the other one in her hair. As they finally pulled apart to breathe, Nancy rested her forehead against his, her yes still closed. Her lips were still hovering over his and she could tell he was smiling. 

"Why were you late?" She asked.

"I had to get you the perfect ring."

"Anything would've been perfect," she murmured back.

"I've decided to start doing things the right way. You deserve it."

They pulled apart as someone gasped and whimpered behind them.

"See, Jonathan? I told you she'd say yes!" 

It was Joyce Byers, grinning so hard she looked like she could burst.

"Your mom knew?"

Jonathan shrugged.

"Yeah, a few others did, too."

"He's been practicing getting down onto that knee without falling for the last six months," interjected Will, coming to stand beside his now-crying mother.

"Really? That long?"

"It's nothing. You know, I'm getting a little hungry, so can we talk about this later? Do you still have any food left?"

She rolled her eyes, but offered him her hand to pull him up regardless. "Come on."

He eyed her hand defiantly at first, but then nodded, taking it. They didn't let go of one another all night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that marks the end of this fic. Thank you so much for reading, guys, I had a lot of fun writing this :)


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